Toxic Traditions
by grandHyperbole
Summary: She has to wonder if all these people realize that Mistletoe is poisonous. Hints at FemCrossxWinters


**A/N:** So this is another one with fem!Cross, but it's based off a fic I never got around to writing. It's all in my head, so I may eventually, but for now it's just floating around. Merry Christmas in August~!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and make no profit off of fanfiction.

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><p>Cross hated Christmas with all the passion of a thousand white hot suns, and nothing would ever be able to change that. She didn't see the point of spending hundreds of dollars on gifts that people may or may not like, just because of one specific day of the year. Sure she'd buy gifts for one or two people, just because she knew <em>they<em> enjoyed the tradition of it, and sure she'd tolerate the Christmas dinners and everything else she would be dragged into, because, hey, free food, even she couldn't complain about that. But the gaudy decorations, constant smell of pine trees and gingerbread, and the horrendous singing of carolers just got on her last nerve. Not to mention that she absolutely detested the snow, but that wasn't the fault of Christmas itself, just the time of year and the portion of the planet she chose to spend said season in.

What she especially hated, though, were the parties. She couldn't _stand_ the Christmas parties, especially the ones thrown by the school for the teachers and the semi-annual ones thrown by the various science communities that, for some reason, she'd become a part of. She had no desire to spend time outside of office hours with people she saw every day, as that was always awkward in the way of having to socialize with people you spent all day with and were now finding yourself seeing outside of that work environment. Such a time had never, in her experience, been anything less than horribly awkward. Sure she got on with a good number of her co-workers alright, but there were few that she'd actually like to spend time outside of work with. Passing each other in the halls and occasionally talking in the break room didn't make them friends, and she had no desire to attempt to force conversation and make those times in the Teacher's Lounge any more awkward than it tended to be.

She could deal with the weak eggnog, the occasional glass of cheap wine or champagne, and even the hesitant conversation, really, she could, She'd even contribute with something practical for the stupid White Elephant thing -sometimes-, but what she could never understand about those parties was everyone's fascination with a poisonous, ugly weed. What was the point of hanging a toxic plant in the doorway of a room, and why should anyone who walked under it together then have to kiss? Was it some ploy to trap people in a crowded room together so they could only leave one at a time? Or was it just so the hosts could embarrass their guests by making them kiss others who were practically strangers? She would never understand Adam's strange fascination with the obnoxious traditions of Yuletide.

Of course, she hadn't expected to ever get caught under the blasted plant with anyone. She was careful to never exit or enter any rooms with anyone else, just to avoid such an obnoxious fate as having to kiss someone and get infected with anything disgusting. Her colleagues were all well aware of her OCD, so even though she was sure some of them would have loved to have gotten caught under that ugly bit of foliage with her, they all let her be. That was to say, all but _him_, of course. She wasn't even sure the fool had really realized what was going on or what was now expected to happen due to his obliviousness and her distraction. It would figure that, in her attempts to make sure no one was walking out of the room with her, that Zokalo Winters would be walking _into_ said room at the same time. The doorway was big enough to fit both of them, so it hadn't occurred to either of them to worry about the other, at least until everyone had suddenly grown silent as they walked passed each other in the doorframe.

It was only then that Cross realized what had happened, realized the implications, and realized how much she wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere. This was the man she'd been attempting to avoid all semester. The man whom she'd gone to great lengths to never get stuck in the same hallway together with, let alone the same room or doorway. The man who Komui had sent to deliver that stupid, useless syllabus to her and who had thus seen more of her than most other men could ever hope to see. _This was the man she desperately wanted to sleep with_, but who she'd been avoiding for months in an attempt to get those desires to fade, and who she was now expected to kiss in front of everyone they worked with.

'_Adam will die a slow, horrible, excruciating death for this.'_ was the only thought that could process fully, setting off a chain reaction of the many ways she could make the man suffer.

But everyone, including Winters, was still staring at her, clearly expecting more than her frozen, horrified silence. What could she possibly do in this situation? She was sure most people expected her to refuse, confirming their beliefs that she truly hated the man. She didn't, though. Cross couldn't hate the man, as much as she tried and as much as he pissed her off. As much as she wanted to say his personality and attitude pissed her off, it didn't make her hate him. In fact, she found his blunt personality and rather sadistic humor rather appealing, considering it complimented her own dry sarcasm and cruel tendencies just fine.

So, having decided that she didn't really want people thinking of her as a righteous bitch or something just because she refused to kiss the idiot coach under the stupid, fucking mistletoe, she decided she might as well do it. She just hoped none of the students got word of this, or she'd likely lose her reputation and have some of the male idiots making passes at her and attempting to catch her with the toxic weed.

That in mind, she reached up and grabbed the obnoxiously tall man by the back of his neck and yanked him down to her height, pressing her lips to his a bit more roughly than she normally would. Ignoring the gasps from everyone watching and the way he'd tensed up in surprise, she allowed the kiss to linger for a moment before releasing him and walking off as she'd intended to.

There, let them think what they would. At least now she could be certain that the feeling of being mentally undressed by someone was coming from the Mexican gym teacher, and maybe he'd even take the hint. She'd still do her best to avoid and ignore the man, but now it was just a game of patience and to see if he'd actually put in the effort to catch her.

She rather hoped he would.


End file.
